


Dreams of Winter

by LadyBraken



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams, Emotional Roller Coaster, Epic, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Old Gods, Plot, Religion, Resurrection, Three eye raven, Warging, White Walkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBraken/pseuds/LadyBraken
Summary: Lady died, and a part of Sansa died with it.She felt cold and empty, and she was lost.Lady woke from the dead, and a part of Sansa awoke with it.The dreamt of ice and snow and a King she knew not.Witer came, and a part of Sansa came with it.Men are cruel, but there is nothingcreuler than an hungry god.There was no saying in westeros to say that all men must die, for there was no tongue left to speak.(Where Sansa warg into the ressurected body of Lady and understod why, in the end, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.)





	Dreams of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Hy! this is my very first Game of Thrones fic. I will follow the book's timeline, but not all of its plots. I am basing this fic mostly on the book lore and the theories on the Night King and the Long Night. This will mostly be an epic fic, with a lot of fantasy in it, to talk about my theory on the gods of ASoIaF.   
>  I hope all of you will like this :)  
> This first chapter is a bit short as it is only an introduction to the universe and the plot.   
> I want to thank my beta, dazebras, for the wonderful work

_ Ned Stark’s sword swung in the air.  _

 

_ As the Crow’s head fell onto the ground, blood poured after it like  a red veil nourishing the soil. It spurted in small, gory trails from the opened neck, covering the gaping mouth, falling on the unseeing eyes, pearling from them like tears--  _

 

A breath. 

 

_ “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” _

 

A breath.

 

_ “Is it  true he saw the White Walkers?” _

 

_ “The White Walkers have  been gone for a thousand of years.”  _

 

A breath

 

_ “So was he lying, then?” _

 

_ “A madman sees what he sees.” _

 

A breath.

  
  
  


I- SANSA

  
  


Sansa walked towards King Robert, eyes downcast.

 

“Now, child. Tell me what happened. Tell it all, and tell it true. It’s a great crime to lie to a king.” 

She looked at her father, who nodded. She could  _ feel  _ Joffrey’s eyes on her, the young prince standing in front of his mother, who had her arms protectively draped around his shoulders.  The torches lit her fiery hair and made her green eyes glow like two pools of green fire.

Sansa swallowed. The queen didn’t looked like the motherly woman she had glimpsed at at Winterfell. 

“Sansa?” asked her father gently. 

“I don’t know… I don’t remember. Everything happened so fast… I didn’t see…” She almost cringed at how young and whiny she sounded. She hoped that Prince Joffrey wouldn't like her any less after this. 

Arya jumped and grabbed her hair. “Liar! liar!” she screeched, holding onto Sansa until Father separated them. 

Distantly, Sansa heard the smug voice of Cercei. “She’s as wild as that  animal of hers. I want her punished.”

A chill ran through the girl’s spine. This wasn’t about a little fight. This was the  _ queen t _ hat wanted her sister punished _. _ Cersei smirked . Sansa didn’t -- couldn’t understand why the queen was being so insistent. Why she would want…? Sansa could see her sister from the corner of her eye. It dawned on her how small she was. 

“What would you have me do? Whip her in the streets? Children fight! It’s over.” said King Robert. Cersei’s arm went around her son’s shoulders. 

“Joffrey will probably have scars for the rest of his life,” she spat. 

Sansa didn’t think the wound was  _ that _ grave. She was pretty sure the maester hadn’t thought it too; otherwise, Joffrey would still be in bed, wouldn’t he? Still, she couldn’t help to feel guilt churning inside her. 

Robert threw his son a look. “You let that little girl disarm you?”

The question was met with silence , and Joffrey sulkily lowered his gaze. The king didn’t seemed to notice the red flush that crept on his son’s neck nor the dark look his wife gave him. 

“I want your children disciplined. I’ll do the same with my son.”

Ned bowed his head. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Sansa let out a breath. All would be fine. Soon enough everybody would have forgotten this miserable affair. Maybe it would teach Arya to behave more like a lady. 

“What of the direwolf?” Cersei’s cold voice echoed across the room, “What of the beast that  _ savaged _ your son?”

The King turned towards a soldier that was standing behind them.  

“We found no trace of the wolf, Your  Grace.”

Silence. 

“There’s another wolf.”

No.  _ No _ . She couldn’t let it happen. She  _ knew  _ she couldn’t let it happen. 

“Father,” she whispered. “He can’t mean… You can’t! Father!”

But Ned’s eyes were fixed on the King, face unreadable. There was something cold, yet pleading on his face.

“Your Grace.”

“A wolf is no pet,” grunted the big man. His cheeks reddened.  “Find your girl a dog,. She’ll be happier with it.”

Sansa looked frantically from her father to the king and back. 

“No!  Not Lady!” she screamed. “She didn’t bite anyone! She’s  _ good  _ !”

But the king  was already leaving, his large frame parting  the men on each side. 

“Lady wasn’t there !” screamed Arya, to Sansa’s greatest surprise. 

“Where is the beast?” asked the queen with deceptive softness. 

“Outside the tent, Your Grace.”

A smile graced the Queen’s lips. She turned toward a man in the crowd. Sansa remembered him. She remembered the rasp of Ser Clegane’s voice. A warning if she had ever known one. 

“Ser Ilyn, do me the honor.”

“No. I’ll do it. Send the girls to their rooms. If it must be done, I’ll do it myself. The wolf is of the North. She deserve better than a butcher.” 

Sansa was numb to everything. She looked up, trying to find comfort in her prince’s eyes, but the boy looked pleased as he could ever be. BIle caught up in her throat. She didn’t even noticed she was being led out of the tent. Someone undressed her and too out the pins in her hair. All  she could feel was Arya’s clumsy hand on hers and the deep, deep sorrow inside her stomach. 

Someone, her septa perhaps, laid her gently on the bed. 

She closed her eyes. 

_She was sitting in the courtyard. A hand on her fur, soft words on her ear._ _Something, something shining in the night, a cut, and then --_

When Sansa awoke, she felt warm. Too warm, as if someone had put too much fur on her bed. 

She passed her hand on her cheek to wipe out tears, but her  cheeks were dry. Quickly, she got up and pushed away her covers. It took a long, long time before she remembered to breathe. 

She felt something running down her neck and put her hand to her throat. She  raised her hand to examine the wetness coating her fingers , as if contemplating her limb for the first time. 

It was red. 


End file.
